New York Is Dangerous
by ChloeAndLoz
Summary: You know you're from New York when you think Central Park is 'nature.' When 50 dollars worth of groceries fits into one paper bag. When a wild child publicist enters your life and tips it upside down. Or maybe the latter just makes you Brooke Davis.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
somewhere along in the bitterness  
and I would have stayed up with you all night  
had I known how to save a life_

* * *

Fidgeting on the cheap leather seating inside the lukewarm interior of the bright yellow cab, Brooke Davis tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear and glanced out of the window at the blurred landscape outside. She was already late for a meeting with her newly appointed publicist, they were supposed to be hunting for a property to house a new Clothes over Bros store. Peyton Sawyer came highly recommended and, aside from her reputation for being a little of a wild child, there were no other blemishes on her record. Brooke had been advised to hire her by her assistant Millicent because Peyton could work a room like no one else and her public relations skills were impeccable. From her girlfriends she had learnt that Peyton Sawyer changed lives. Through her associations with them, people had gone from unknown to complete stardom in mere weeks. Not that Brooke needed any help on the celebrity front, she was one in her own right, but she interested to see what Peyton could do for her.

Adjusting her size six-and-a-half foot inside her Giuseppe Zanotti suede platform sandals, she chewed the inside of her cheek. She was a little nervous, she had to admit it and she didn't like it. Brooke was usually calm, collected and in control of the situation but right now her hands felt clammy and her teeth ached, a sure sign she was stressing.

The vehicle ground to a halt and Brooke handed him his fare, stepping outside into the harsh cool air of New York City. Her curious hazel eyes travelled up and down the façade of the building ahead of her several times before she took a step to approach it. The structure was simple but it appeared sound, grey without being charcoal, old but not so much so that it looked outdated. All in all, Brooke was sort of impressed. It seemed this Peyton girl actually knew what she was doing.

"Brooke Davis, I've heard so much about you," stepping forward, Peyton offered her a skinny hand, pulling her best professional smile. "I'm sure we're going to have a lot of fun working together."

Brooke widened her eyes slightly, she hadn't expected Peyton to be so… informal, not in her mannerisms but aesthetically. She was beautiful, there was no denying, and her warm blonde hair that curled around her heart shaped face only emphasised this. But Brooke had expected a hardened woman dressed in head to toe Prada, her whole being screaming high maintenance and severity. But Peyton, in her loose fitting multi coloured plaid shirt, ripped jeans and Louboutin heels was anything but severe. "It's nice to finally meet you Peyton. Everyone has told me a lot about you," she cast an eye back to the store front "It's pretty remarkable that you've found somewhere like this in the Meatpacking District, I thought everywhere would have been snapped up by now, considering how popular the area is."

"I'm sure they have," Peyton laughed, almost whimsically, as they entered the dilapidated building. Striding into the centre of the room, she propped her oversized Prada sunglasses onto the top of her head. "What can I say?" She glanced around the room in pride. "I have contacts."

Peyton Sawyer loved her job, which was why she completely immersed herself in it. There was something exhilarating in discovering the perfect location, or having the best contacts on speed dial. And the hand shake of a pleased client? Was priceless. Peyton had never been the most compassionate person in the world so acquiring happiness had never come easy to her, the blame for this lay partially on her parents, the other half on herself. Growing up in North Carolina she had been brought up in a very… family orientated household. The sort that insisted on games night Tuesday, and family dinner Sunday. But behind the familial rituals and traditions, Peyton had often felt suffocated and unwanted by her relatives. Her older sister, Kate had always been the shining star in the unit. Class valedictorian with a scholarship to Yale pre med, married to the former quarterback of their high school, Kate was the first person her parents mentioned when they referred to their children. And although Peyton knew that they were proud she was making it on her own in New York, they would have been a little more enthusiastic if she was doing it back in North Carolina, and with a husband and a couple of kids in tow.

"I really-" Brooke paused, trying to find the exact word to describe the feeling that was filling her on viewing the interior. It was spacious and despite the fact that currently it looked more like a squat than a hot boutique, she could see definite potential. "Like it," she finished, her mind instantly crammed full of ideas for the walls, carpets and furniture.

"It was erected in 1900, when the area was still mostly used as a centre of commerce for slaughterhouses and packing plants, but in the 1980s it became known as a hub for drug dealing and prostitution," Peyton had a twinkle in her mossy green eyes. "If these walls could speak," she spoke in barely a whisper, brushing her fingertips against a row of wooden panels.

Brooke watched her publicist with an interested expression, she appreciated knowing the history of the building, which she definitely hadn't expected her to begin spouting. "When can we sign the lease?" she enquired, her pupils focusing on Peyton's face.

"When can you sign the lease?" Peyton retorted.

"Well, I have a lunch date this afternoon, but this evening, or tomorrow would be great," Brooke tugged a Bendels planner from her Chanel handbag, and began thumbing through it.

"Great, Julian will be so pleased, he's been searching for a tenant for a while," she whipped out her iPhone and began tapping the screen at high speed. "I'm sure your familiar with the process, you'll need your lawyer present and so will Julian, I'll arrange it all for you."

Brooke froze for a second "The owner, what is his surname?"

Peyton glanced up from her screen, eyebrows raised. "Baker, why, do you know him?"

Letting out a small chuckle, Brooke turned away and let her eyes drift round the room. This was so typical. "I'm only marrying him."

"Wait," Peyton snapped her fingers in sudden realization. "You're this… 'pretty girl' he always raves about," she crossed her arms, smirking. "It's so good to finally meet you."

"I had no idea Julian owned anything on this side of town," Brooke admitted "Although I don't exactly keep track of everything he buys. How do you know him?"

"Friend of the family," Peyton narrowed her eyes. "How fortunate for you, at least we're safe in the knowledge this place will be yours by this time tomorrow. I highly doubt Julian would refuse his blushing bride."

"I should hope not," Brooke smiled curtly, glancing at her Blackberry to check the time "I have to go, so I'll just leave all of this in your capable hands," she made a move towards the door.

Nodding her head slowly, Peyton followed in Brooke's wake, locking up as they stepped outside into the crisp September air. Once outside, Peyton turned back to Brooke. "Say hey to Julian for me," she smiled warmly, hoisting her leather Chloé tote onto her shoulder, and dropping her sunglasses to her nose. "Take care of yourself, and don't worry about a thing," Peyton raised a hand in farewell, before spinning on her heel, hailing a cab and climbing in in one swift movement.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_and though there are times when I hate you  
'cause I can't erase  
the times that you hurt me  
and put tears on my face  
and even now while I hate you  
it pains me to say  
I know I'll be there at the end of the day_

* * *

Smiling appreciatively at the hostess as she indicated the table at which her fiancé was already waiting, Brooke sauntered towards her seat, pausing to lean down and kiss Julian Baker.

"Sorry I'm late, my meeting ran over a little," she smiled, sitting down opposite him and taking a sip from the glass of mineral water he had just poured for her from the decanter of Perrier.

"And looking beautiful as always," he smirked, pulling his trademark grin that made Brooke practically buckle at the knees "I ordered for you."

Nodding slightly, Brooke glanced around the cool glass interior of the Blue Water Grill, Julian's favourite restaurant and one he rarely ventured outside of. Even when he stayed over at her apartment on Park, he would still order takeout from here, citing that it was the only place that cooked lobster the way he liked it.

As their drinks arrived, hers a white wine spritzer and his an apple martini, she sipped at the glass and crossed her left leg over her right beneath the table.

"How has your day been so far?" she enquired, tucking an errant strand of straightened chocolate brown hair behind her ear.

"Busy," his overly soft hand reached across to stroke her own. "But better now you're here." Taking a gulp of his martini, Julian's eyes slid to the side, it being obvious he was checking out a passing gaggle of girls. Although Brooke doubted the sincerity of his remark, considering what it had been followed by, she smiled sweetly and returned his affection.

"I went to scout locations with Peyton today, and it looks like I'm going to be signing the lease for the place in the Meatpacking District," she tilted her head to one side to regard him "Why didn't you tell me that you owned it?"

Julian laughed as he lowered his drink back to the table. "Babe, I own a lot of a places," he grinned. "I wouldn't expect you to tell me everyone that you sell your designs to, or every piece in your Autumn Winter line."

It was hardly the same thing, not at all really, but Brooke nodded as if it was. "A heads up just would have been nice, considering I looked like I didn't take any notice in your work in front of my new publicist," she leaned back to allow the waiter to place a substantial lobster salad on the table. Of course he paused and took a lengthy gaze down her shirt, but that was to be expected, the waiters here were all perverts "Did you speak to your Mom, she wants us to come out to the Hampton's house next weekend."

"My Mom?" Julian shook his head of shortly cropped hair as he placed a forkful of lobster meat and lettuce leaf into his mouth. Finally swallowing, he continued. "About that," he dabbed at the corner of his lips with a napkin. "I was thinking that maybe we could vacation somewhere a little more… intimate this year." Delving deep into his trousers pocket, he revealed an envelope containing plane tickets. He placed them before her with a flourish "How does Christmas in St. Barts sound?"

Brooke creased her eyebrows as she bit into a slice of tomato. Since when had St. Barts been intimate, it was just as popular with families of the Upper East Side as the Hampton's if not more so. Plus, the French paparazzi were ridiculous. It seemed that they had no laws governing their behaviour and therefore felt it necessary to act like a rabble of hyenas, baying for the best picture possible. Thus, privacy was a commodity. "Sounds…" she trailed off and filled the silence with a mouthful of wine "Beautiful."

"I knew you'd love it," he smiled, checking out the same group of girls as they paraded past once again. "How's the salad?"

In truth it was tasteless, limp and watery. Kind of like the conversation. Brooke smiled through a bite of lobster meat "Lovely," she choked out, swallowing thickly to avoid gagging on the slippery texture.

"So, babe-"

"One second," she interrupted, tugging out her Blackberry where the screen illuminated on a text from Peyton.

_Drinks, Rose Bar, 8pm tonight?_

Texting back that she'd love to, Brooke closed the phone and turned her attention back to Julian "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just going to suggest cocktails after lunch."

"Oh," Brooke's mouth formed an 'o' "I said to Peyton, my new publicist, that I'd have drinks with her," she squeezed his hand across the table "You could always have a boys night instead."

"Peyton Sawyer?" Julian's face expressed curiosity.

"The one and only," she smiled "Why, do you two know each other?"

"Unfortunately," Julian sighed as he dryly swallowed a sip of his martini. "The girl's insane, I hope you weren't planning on anything long term, mostly for your sake."

"Our relationship is purely professional," Brooke responded, swallowing a piece of cucumber "She seems good at what she does, and I can't fault her so far. She did find me an amazing store location, that you can't deny."

"Drinks sounds extremely professional," he propped his chin on his hand. "And just so you know, if you were anybody else I wouldn't be doing this. I had planned to stay as far away from Peyton Sawyer as I possibly could. But somehow she always manages to find her way back to me," his hand had now formed a fist. "Crazy bitch. Do you know how much I put on the line for her? She really brought a whole new meaning to the saying 'don't mix business with pleasure.'"

Brooke knew that in this kind of situation it was much easier to have Julian on side than fighting her every move. Smiling coquettishly she slid her foot out of her Giuseppe Zanotti heel and skimmed her sole up and down the calf of Julian's trouser. "It's not like I'm dating her, she's my publicist," she twirled a strand of hair around her index finger "You could always come over later…"

Knowing where this conversation was heading, Julian lay his cutlery on his plate. "Sounds perfect," he smirked, running the tip of his index fingers along her knuckles gently. "Call me when you're done?" Raising from the table, he smoothed out invisible creases from his purple pin-striped shirt. "I look forward to it," he muttered, before bending down, kissing her forehead and leaving in a cloud of Jean Paul Gaultier aftershave.


End file.
